


A Most Loving Boy.

by AnzieLove



Category: Little Lord Fauntleroy - Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Lost Prince - Frances Hodgson Burnett
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27382444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnzieLove/pseuds/AnzieLove
Summary: The Lost Prince/Little Lord Fauntleroy AU where Cedric Errol is an orphan that lives in Samavia and Captain Jem Ratcliffe adopts him.
Relationships: Marco Loristan/The Rat
Kudos: 2





	A Most Loving Boy.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing and I make no money.
> 
> It should be noted that this Cedric Errol character is more based on the Cedric from the 1921 film, where the character is adorably portrayed by Mary Pickford. Book Cedric is a lot less hot-headed, and is 7-8 years old, while the 1921 movie Cedric seems to be more 10-13.

The Captain Ratcliffe, or Jem, noticed that he was a most active child, a social butterfly. One could not help but be drawn to his vivacious personality, be it in a good or a bad way. Jem, who also in his youthful years (but still to His Majesty King Ivor) went by the name of The Rat - as he was a poor, dirty, angry, and beaten youth - spent a good deal of his free time wandering the streets of Samavia. He grew up playing in the streets of London, after all. On his walks, he noticed many things over the years. He took note of the buildings and streets. He took note of their old and new. And although he was not as skillful as the King in remembering faces, he did take note of people he saw frequently, and those he felt stood out among the crowd in his mind. One of those people was a small child who looked to be between the ages of ten and twelve. Jem first took note of him because just the sight of him was very curious. He flaunted a fashion that was not typical for his gender or age. He mistook him for a little girl in the beginning - because he had these beautiful, long, golden curls that reached down to the center of his back. And his clothes were very dignified and noble-looking, with lots of velvet and laces - the wardrobe of a little gentleman, indeed. 

Then the captain took note of how this curly-headed boy always walked the streets alone, as in with no sort of parent or chaperone or child friend. Jem could not help but wonder why. Perhaps he was the independent type. One thing for sure, Jem figured that he wasn't a loner due to shyness, cynicism, or a disliking of his fellow man. The boy was quite friendly, and very wholesome and genuine in his friendliness. What was curious was that he tended to be friendly with those that were far older than himself, however, and not those around his age. Among his friends was an old food store owner, an old woman that made her money by selling apples on the street, and a middle-aged shoe shiner, who also worked on the streets.

The boy dressed like a little gentleman, and for the most part, he seemed to be a little gentleman at heart.

Whenever Jem came across the grocery store in which the boy's older friend (Mister Hobbs, was it?) owned, he'd glance through the window, or walk inside, and he'd catch them talking. Like a lot of senior men, the store owner could be very passionate about his politics, and the boy would sit on a crate and listen to his friend with fierce eyes and the utmost attention. A good student, he was; a good listener. And whenever Jem saw the boy converse with his two working friends on the streets, he'd lift their spirits up with talks of his dreams. When the Apple Lady moaned about her aching body, the boy would proudly tell her, "When I become president of the United States, I will have you live in the White House with me and you will never have to work again!"

And the captain could only guess that the boy's shoe shiner friend was running low on customers at some point because he witnessed the boy stopping a nobleman (that Jem himself regularly saw at court) to talk. The boy said something silly and adorable, like he always did: "I have a friend who wears a suit just like yours, only he drives a street car!" 

While he distracted the nobleman with his charming comment, the boy wiped the sole of his dirty shoe on top of the nobleman's, and when the man noticed that his own shoe was filthy, the boy pointed him in the direction of his friend. With this man, there just so happened to follow a crowd of either other nobleman friends or citizens in need, and they followed him to the shoe shiner's stand. 

So this child dressed like a little gentleman, was a good student, a good motivator, and a clever problem solver. What couldn't this child be or do?

But alas: with the sweet comes the sour.

Jem could never have imagined that such a charming child had people that disliked him. It was a shocking discovery, and Jem had learn it in a way that made him wish he had stepped in much sooner.  
After witnessing the boy help his shoe shiner friend in the most mischievous way, Jem went out for another walk soon after and came across the most active boy yet again. This time, he found the curly-headed boy quiet and looking anxious, with no smiling or curious gleam in his eye or any other playfulness about him; and that was already most unusual. What was also curious was the building Jem found him standing in front of. It was a barber shop, one that gave ten-to-fifteen cent haircuts. The boy paced back and forth in front of it, as if he were on edge and trying to make up his mind on what to do. When the boy was not pacing, he was right up against the glass, watching the work of the scissor and razor being carried out. 

Jem had not heard the "voice" from within himself speak up in quite a while, not since he and the King - who then was a pauper that went by the name, Marco - traveled through Europe to give The Sign to various Samavians in hiding. Seeing the boy that day, pacing back and forth and looking uncertain, the voice from within said:

"Talk to him. He is not alright."

So Jem straightened himself up (in any way a hunchback could) and approached the shop, the boy still leaning against the glass and watching the barber work. Once the captain crossed the street and found himself on the same pavement as the boy, he said: "I certainly hope you aren't thinking about cutting your lovely hair." 

The child jumped in surprise, whirling around and sending some curls a-swinging. His eyes went wide and his little mouth formed that little "o": "Oh! No, sir! Well, perhaps, sir. I'm still thinking about it."

Now that Jem was close to him, he finally got a good look at the child. What he saw now, he did not see from afar moments before; and what he saw, he did not like.

His own eyes went wide: "I say, my dear child - what happened to you! Did someone hurt you?"

Jim's mind immediately flew back to the horrible years of his early youth, when he lived with a drunken father that beat him and yelled at him day in and day out. He thought about how he often slept out in the streets to avoid the next beating. He never knew when his father was drunk or only half drunk, when he was more gentleman-like.

It was obvious that someone hit the boy. Even the clumsiest of children couldn't just fall over and get a bruise on the cheek like that. And while he took note of the bruised face, the captain also took note of how dirty his fine clothes were. It was as if he had taken a tumble. It was how a child might look after a fight.

"I - well, you see, sir," the boy started, "the other boys here, they don't appreciate my curls. But - I don't care!" The young one then tried to stand his best stance, clenched his fists, and puffed his chest out. "I don't! I only fight back because their words are insulting to my father, and Dearest."

Jem had hoped that he was telling the truth. He had hoped that all this really was the result of children being children and not of a bad family at home. "An insult to your father?"

The boy nodded. "He also wore curls." When he said this, his little body seemed to swell with pride again, clenching his fist, straightening up, and standing a good fighting stance. "I don't see why some boys can't have them."

"And Dearest, who is that?"

The boy loosened up on his grip and his fists became unclenched. "She..." His eyes went downward. "She was my mother." Then the captain watched this child crumble in an instant before him. His little, bruised face crunched up into a grimace, as if he were about to cry, and cry he did. The tears were fast and plentiful, and he tried hiding behind his hands. "I don't mean to cry, sir; truly." He was sniffling and hiccuping and trying to rub away at his tears. "I have seen you around these parts and I know you must be a nobleman, because of the way you dress. Pardon my tears, sir. But Dearest: she always told me that it was alright to cry. It was better to cry than to hold it in. And now that I have started crying, I can't seem to stop."

As a boy, as The Rat, Jem told himself that crying was only for the weak. He told himself that because his father told him that, and he went by that belief, even when he hated his father enough to want to kill him. These are the kinds of things fools believe. Fortunately, Marco, his father, and Lazarus taught him the True Way to carry one's mind and heart. "Cry your tears. Dearest is most certainly right. Does your father know about the other boys?"

"No, sir. At least I don't think so. He died before Dearest. If he is watching me, I hope he knows that I fight for him. I don't like fighting much. I'd much rather be friendly, but sometimes my passions get the best of me."

Jem understood that all too well. "Where do you live if you do not live with your mother or father?"

"In the orphanage, sir." 

Part of the captain knew that he had probably known since the moment he first saw the boy, from the moment he first took note of how he walked alone. There was no need for Jem to ask if the boy was happy living there. He had known many orphans in his youth. He came across many in the streets of London, and not one of them enjoyed any workhouse or anything of the sort. They would rather have slept on the streets, which they often did, even when they were sick enough for Death. They would rather have Death. Having remembered that, and knowing how this boy did not seem to get on well with other boys, Jem's heart swelled with something he could only compare to maternal instinct, a mother's protectiveness. "And you're sure you have no other relatives?"

The boy shook his head. "Not that I know of. Dearest was an orphan and had no kin. And I never heard her talk about father's relatives, so I thought it was the same for him." 

The words of Marco's father, Stefan (may God rest his soul), then filled his mind: "Help him. It is your duty, because you are a man and he is a boy, and this is a terrible thing."

Jem knew this boy could not live at the orphanage, nor could he live on the streets. "What is your name?"

"Cedric. Cedric Errol."

Cedric! How perfect.

The captain tries voicing his most dignified of voices. Bet no one in London imagined that dirty, homely, stringy-haired cripple that slept on the streets would grow up to become a man of uniform that spoke like such a swell. "Cedric: you say that you have seen me around these parts and from my state of dress, assume I must be a nobleman. Well, it is true. I am a loyal servant to His Majesty King Ivor. I am the captain of the Royal Guard, and one of the things that the King has ordered me to do is use my power to help those in need. You are hurt - in more ways than one - and you are in tears. Let me help you. Come with me to the castle. I will give you a good meal, a place to rest your weary mind, and new clothes."

"Are you going to throw these clothes away, sir?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"Dearest gave me these clothes. She made them herself."

"She made them well. We will take special care of them. And for your father, you'd best not cut your curls. They make you look like a true little Lord, a little gentleman."

Jem turned to start their way to the castle, and young Cedric, ever so sweet and thoughtful, made sure that he walked at the same pace as his crutch hops.

Marco may be taken aback by his captain bringing in a child, but he would make him understand. He did not want this child going back to that orphanage - ever again. If Marco would not understand why he brought Cedric in that day, Jem knew that he would with time, once he saw what a charming character Cedric was.


End file.
